The thirteenth page.

Winter 25th, 569



To begin this, I'd like to hearken back to several months ago, when a valuable tome entitled Nautical Knowledge was found. Two groups of people - the rugged Pirates and the learned staff of the University of Puddleby - wished to possess it, so it was established that a tournament would be held to decide which group would earn the right. In the mean time, Mystic Wangah Rah held the book, despite his affiliation with the Pirates.

The tournament took place, and, despite several accusations of cheating, the Pirates were declared the winners. Rah supposedly handed the book over.

Now that its background's been explained, the tale itself can be told. Nate Autical has decided recently that he's collected enough materials to improve the ship that carries exiles to Peaceton. Apparently, however, materials aren't enough - Nate feels he needs to research ship building some before he can complete his task. The fellow came to town the other day asking after books and any other knowledge on naval technology that we had. Naturally, Nautical Knowledge was mentioned. In fact, it just so happened it just so happened that Kalian, who represents the pirates occasionally, had the book with him, and was all too willing to hand it over.



Things would have gone on well enough from there, but Nate took one good look at the book and declared it worthless to him, stating that its pages were filled with obvious nonsense. Rah, sneering complacently, approached Nate and explained that the book Kalian had held was a forgery. Wangah had possessed the real version all along, and never had any intention of handing it over to any exile that owned it more rightfully than he.

This means that the entire contest was a sham, and that all of Puddleby was manipulated into believing a lie. Whether the outcome of the tournament was legitimate or not is irrelevant - Rah obviously would have kept the book to himself no matter who rightfully won it. Although Wangah claims that this deception was carried out on behalf of the Mystic council, his statement is unconfirmed. Indeed, this strikes me as something one would expect from someone acting according to his own selfish whims.

This sort of disgusting behavior is the sort of thing most right-minded people have come to expect from the likes of Wangah Rah, who has a well established history of violence, racism, necromancy, and affiliation with the orga. However, deception of this level against one's fellow exiles is particularly vile, even for the likes of him.

I personally urge extra caution when dealing with this conniving ball of slime that presumes to call itself a Mystic. If you must, shun him. Place a complete embargo upon interaction with him, if only to protect yourself, your assets, and your families. At the very least, don't help him when he inevitably digs himself into an infinitely deep hole of deception and thievery. Through our combined efforts, I'm certain we can teach even the particularly dimwitted what happens when they try to swindle the good people of Puddleby.

--Largo

The twelfth page.

Autumn 62nd, 568



Two more Heralds have come and been slain since I last wrote. The messages seem to be more and more serious, and the beasts delivering them grow stronger and stronger. Other, unrelated events have taken place, but I'll write about them another day, for I fear this is the most important thing to share right now.

A few days ago, in what I can only assume was the standard fashion, a starbuck Herald and a swarm of his brethren delivered the following message. I wasn't present, personally - these details are only known to me because Myiasis shared them.

With vile contempt and opened scorn
the fourth of heralds' threat was made.
But would the witness hearken or
fear an omen thus conveyed?

Starbucks aren't a feature of the solar zodiac, which lays my previous theory completely to rest. I suppose the chiggers were something of a stretch anyway. Also notable - and especially disturbing - is the fact that these normally docile deer turned vicious to deliver their message. Someone is of the mind that turning the natural world upside down to explain something to us is worth the trouble, which makes our situation seem all the more dire.



Destroying my other idea is the fact that another Herald bore its message to us fewer than four days after the starbuck. This puzzling event removes any pattern in timing that I am able to see.

This time, the swarming animals were tor. True to form, they seemed harmless at first, but became stronger as the fight waged on. Before long, we were battling beasts with scaly skin tougher than the strongest leather, and shells as impenetrable as the thickest iron shield. Indeed, the resiliency of the final waves of tor could easily be likened to that of a particularly imposing mud golem. When the Herald was finally found and put to rest, it delivered its message in the same way that the others did before it.

The Fifth of heralds held its tongue
enduring torment of the sword.
But did the witness heed this deed
or had this presage been ignored?



I don't claim to understand what these rhymes or the circumstances surrounding them mean. But I do know that their tone is becoming more serious, and even accusing. The beasts delivering them grow more dangerous. This all bodes ill.

--Largo

The eleventh page.

Autumn 58th, 568



A strange event has been repeating itself with apparent regularity for the past several days. Although the exact details change slightly each time, the general occurrences remain the same. First, a large swarm of some type of creature is spotted, and exiles go to combat it. This swarm seems never to shrink, no matter how many beasts are killed. Indeed, the creatures seem to grow stronger and larger as the battle wages on. At some point, the appearance of a death poppy catches everyone off-guard.

The battle culminates with the appearance of a particularly strong creature, slightly different than its fellows in coloration or size. When cut down, this creature explodes in a ball of fire and conjures a circle of runes. A message in the form of a cryptic poem is magically relayed to those in the immediate area, and exiles across the island chain all feel what's been described as a "wave of pain". Because of the messages they bear when slain, these creatures are referred to as heralds.



At the time that I write here, this has taken place a total of three times. The first herald was a rat, the second an ona chigger, and the third some sort of bird. The timing is notable - the heralds have come almost exactly four days apart from eachother. One thing I've noted about the heralds is that they almost seem parallel to the features of the solar zodiac. The rats correspond with Enba, the birds with Eghorus, and the chiggers might symbolically represent one of the others.

The tone and apparent meanings of the poems brought to us by the heralds seem to indicate that some powerful person or group of persons is trying to send us an important message of distress. However, it doesn't strike me as the work of any mage I'm familiar with. What I've read of the 'Brion brothers indicates that they'd probably be more direct with us, even if they complained about it some. Votenkath doesn't seem to care one way or the other what happens to we exiles, and Colmert seems to be an amiable type, who'd endeavor to explain the trouble to us immediately if we were at risk. There's also the trouble of the "serious" problem being undisclosed to us. It seems that someone who truly wanted to warn us of something would explain what they were warning us of.



Of course, all of this is speculation in the purest sense. The messages of a few more heralds might further prove or disprove my ideas, and will, hopefully, add more pieces to the puzzle presented by the riddles we've been delivered so far. I'll continue to write about these strange events as they take place.

--Largo

---

This second bit of the entry is written in a different ink, apparently added to the page shortly after the first.


The First among the heralds sought
an ear receptive to its word.
But would the witness give his ear
to the confusion to be heard?

The Second of the heralds brought
a portent filled with dire distress.
But would the witness shun advice
And seek instead a nescient bliss?

The third of heralds raised its horn
and blared its bodement pure and plain.
But could the witness understand
if never comprehending pain?


I nearly forgot - above you'll find written the messages brought by the three heralds, as they were relayed to those exiles present to hear them. Although I personally missed the first two, my good friend and fellow thespian Illora Mone quite kindly saw fit to provide them to all interested parties.

--Largo

The tenth page.

Autumn 25th, 568



The other day, Un'drus invoked the wrath of some previously unknown myrms with his digging. These new myrms were incredibly vicious and hardy; Their mandibles were sharp and strong, their chitin was difficult to effectively pierce, and they traveled in swarms. Needless to say, the hapless miner fell very quickly, and it was up to we exiles to save him.

After some debate and confusion about the best way to reach the dwarf, we finally entered below the library and looped around, fighting ants all the way. We would have gone through the ossuary under the healer temple, but that would have been too dangerous - we would have stepped directly into the swarming myrms.

Combat went on for a short time before a large portion of the group fell, myself included. It took a good while before I was raised, but it was in time for me to run south and see the rest of my comrades killing an enormous, loathsome purple grub of some sort. Imagining what a grub like that may grow into is very unsettling, but more unsettling still is the fact that they've probably lived, unchecked, below Puddleby for hundreds of years.



Once the grub was slain, a large wave of dangerous "defender" myrms burrowed up from under us, and began a relentless attack. It was a long and difficult battle, but we eventually prevailed. Our victory there marked the last of that encounter, aside from some quick cleaning up afterwards.

In the end, Un'drus was rescued very successfully. After the myrms were killed, he thanked us, set out a keg, and returned to his station. If given supplies and time, I think that miner's guild is likely to stumble upon the hive of these new myrms and grubs, giving us the opportunity to hunt and study them further. After Nate Autical's project is completed, I know where I'll be sending my donations.

--Largo